Chan Chan

Chan Chan playing loudly

He held me --softly

A hint of rage as well

I could not be all he hoped

He was my Spanish sun

He had thought me beauty in silence

I ran to him a fatherless child

He stripped--my religiosity 

I wanted to connect the dots --

the ones on his body-- to see the

Before and after link

Lost snapshots in an ocean of un-wept tears

Curve of his lighted Camel

Tense elevator silence 

Unnecessary cordial conversation

Mounting climax to -- Nothing

The Aftermath confused me still

His tanned skin cut by the white starched sheets

Sounds of late night brawls, midnight kisses

Coming from out there

Sleep would not make me drop 

Into submission, street-lights and

His breathing were companions 

But sleep I could not

He left two days next

Summer had been planned

In the fall he would be arrogant still

A touch of whimsical-mysterious in his hair

I tried to hide it, as long as I could

It came out all colors -- orange, green, yellow

Things unsaid, left unexplored

Though it's a shame I could  not die and let go.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6JEdf7XsV5g

Dear Diary: Shitty Moment

Dear Diary,
I have no clue what the fuck I'm doing. The heat is unbearable. I don't know if I'm leaving or staying next year because I'm too lazy to get my shit together. I think I might have lost a friend. I think I might be making a new one. I'm exhausted. I just want to fast-forward, see ahead because this "in limbo" situation isn't doing it for me. I feel fat, lazy and useless all in one. This has not been a good day, or month, or year. And I should give myself a break because -HOURRAY!!- I've made it out in one piece. But holy fuck I feel shitty right now. I think I need a hug, and I don't even know where to get it from. 

Dear Diary: Grad Is Near, So Are The Tears

Dear Diary,

Graduation is this Friday. By the end of this week, the whole Grad-Preprom-Prom-Afterprom train will have gone by and I will be left free-relatively. I mean, most of these people I will most likely only see further in my life as acquaintances, silhouettes from a distant past. Most of these people will probably exist only for an instant in my consciousness until some climax in their lives (wedding, funeral, lottery win, unexpected pregnancy, ect) makes them subjects of interest again. It's not cruel, the same goes for me too. When the champagne stops flowing and the glitter stops falling and the tears have dried and the enthusiasm has settled, life will just keep on going with its comedies and tragedies and whatever it is that fills the gaps between both. So might just as well make the best of this I guess. In pure moronic adolescent fashion, I guess the correct term to define the sentiment of coming-of-age nonsense I'm constantly being fed by Hollywood, the correct term would be : YOLO.